#carrie cleveland | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

msbigredmachine · 3 months

Text

Warm (Jey Uso/OC)

An on-again, off-again couple takes the snowy ride to the next town together.

PAIRING: Jey Uso x OC

Word Count: 6.3k

Warning: The usual smut and everything in between.

A/N: First fic of the year! Enjoy!

Click here if you want to be on the tag list. If I’ve forgotten anyone please let me know so I can add you.

Credit to the owners of the pics and gifs.

--------------------------------

"Hey girl, got a sec?"

Looking up to see Nia standing right in front of her, Malia stood up straighter. The locker room was full of her friends and fellow wrestlers, all done for the evening and packing up to leave the arena. "What's up?"

"I totally forgot that I agreed to carpool with Maxxine after the show," she said as they exited the locker room together. "I'm really sorry, it totally slipped my mind."

"Oh, that sucks," Malia said, a little disappointed as Nia was great company. "It's no big deal. I'll figure something out."

"Are you sure? It's starting to snow out there. Will you be okay on your own?"

"Alone on the road with full control of the heating and my own playlist?" Malia laughed. "I'll be fine."

Nia nodded. "Okay. I feel bad, so I'll ask around and see if anyone needs a ride. That way you can split the bills and stuff," she offered, pausing when she looked over Malia's shoulder. "Oooh, look who's coming our way," she grinned.

Curious, Malia turned around, and her heart skipped a beat as Josh Fatu walked in their direction, his carry-on behind him and his phone in front of him. She plastered an unbothered expression on her face and turned back to Nia, but the Irresistible Force saw right through the facade.

"Girl, you're blushing already!" she cackled. "You and him still fucking?"

"No, I'm not blushing. And no, we're not fucking," Not lately anyway, Malia added to herself, fluffing her Afro as nonchalantly as possible.

"Liar. You two crack me up, you're totally in love with each other but keep acting like you're not. I did warn you about the whole friends-with-benefits thing."

She did. And Malia caught feelings and had been trying to run from those feelings since. But not with much success, given that she and Josh were both part of the Monday Night Raw roster and lived in the same goddamn city which gave him plenty of access to her. The problem was she was falling in love and he wasn't, so she tried to save face by imposing an extended 'break' from each other, under the guise of 'seeing other people'. Being alone with him on a long midnight drive wasn't going to help her cause to break away.

"It's a three-hour trip from here to Cleveland. Think you can hold off for that long if you go together?" Nia asked, a little too gleefully for Malia's taste.

"Stop with the slander. You make it sound like I'm this raging nympho," she rebuffed.

"When it comes to him? Yes! I've witnessed it! You jump each other's bones every chance you get. How you guys aren't official, I'll never understand. He's getting closerrrr," Nia sang, clearly enjoying the way Malia was trying not to squirm. "Let me go talk to him."

Malia started to panic as Nia moved towards him. "Where are you going?" she warned, "Nia, no!"

"Um, you want a ride or not? Hey, Joshyyyy!"

"Savelina!" Malia hissed, falling silent when Josh looked up from his phone, his gaze lingering on her for a long, tense beat before moving to Nia. "Sup ladies," he said, tipping his bearded chin up in greeting. His jaw moved repeatedly, and she saw he was chewing gum when he opened his mouth to speak. Juicy Fruit, she predicted. His favorite.

"I heard you're driving by yourself tonight," Nia said to him.

His eyebrows rose skeptically. "Yeah..."

"You want a passenger? Cuz my girl over here needs someone to ride with, in more ways than one..."

"Lina, shut up," Malia cut in, stepping in front of her and meeting Josh head-on. "Forgive our friend, Becky hit her in the head too many times tonight," she explained, her insides warming when Jey laughed. "I was supposed to carpool with bitch over here but she made other plans and left me stranded. So umm...if you're going alone, would you mind if I tagged along?" Why the fuck did she sound like she was asking him to Prom?

Again, the air around them simmered with an unknown element. When he took longer than usual to respond, her heart sank a little. "It's cool if you don't want to, I can find someone else-"

"Nah, it's all good, uce, you can come along," he spoke up with a smile. "But I'm 'bout to leave right now, so if you ready-"

"I am," Malia answered, a bit too quickly, and flushed with embarrassment when the corner of his mouth curled upward in a bemused smile. It was then she realized that Nia had disappeared, leaving the two standing alone in the empty hallway.

"Uhh...We should get going," Malia spoke up, scratching awkwardly at the nape of her curly Afro.

Josh nodded, pausing as his eyes scanned her up and down again. "This what you wearin'?" he inquired.

She made a quick, albeit thorough twirl to show off her outfit, a short, figure-hugging beige dress accompanied by a black pair of furry knee-high Uggs. "Yeah, why? What's wrong with it?"

"It's a lil' chilly, no? I mean, don't get me wrong, you look real good, it's just-" Catching himself, he trailed off nervously before he could say anything else inappropriate.

"My jacket is right here, I'll be fine. But if I do get too cold, I'm sure you can keep me warm." Her smile was syrupy sweet as she let the innuendo sink in. The awkwardness was melting away, leaving only the sexual synergy they were both accustomed to.

Josh chuckled to himself and stepped closer to her. "A'ight, I see what'chu tryna do," he said in a lower, huskier timbre that made her loins flutter. "Let's get outta here before I do sum'n we'll both like."

She wanted to ask what was stopping him but instead took the hand he held out to her. It was big and protective and the gentle way he rubbed his thumb over hers always made her feel safe. Together they left the building and into the indoor parking lot. He helped her put her things in the trunk of his Ford Expedition rental, and she fought the urge to stare at his ass when he bent over.

As they began their journey, her gaze landed on her on-again, off-again 'boyfriend', his own fixed on the road ahead. Wearing a fitting dual-colored Nike tracksuit, he looked yummy himself. The hand that had held hers was now on the steering wheel, and she found herself wishing it was touching her again but on a more risqué part of her body this time. They were on a 'break' but she envisioned a lot of difficulty keeping things platonic tonight.

"Since when do you listen to Bon Jovi?" She broke the ice several minutes later, talking over the eighties rock ballad that was playing on the radio and was surprised it hadn't been turned off. "You always used to tell me to change that shit," she laughed.

"They not so bad, they got some good workout songs," he defended with a shrug. "How come you didn't take a flight tonight?" he asked.

She gave a shrug of her own. "I don't know. I probably should have. But with the weather and everything, there'd probably be tons of delays at the airport. I would have ended up sitting there all night. How about you?"

"Same. I prefer the open road anyway," he replied. "Drive fast, blast some good music, you know what it is." He shot her a grin, making selections on the GPS. "Everything good? You comfortable?"

Smoothing her dress down her crossed legs, she nodded and tilted her seat back. "Yeah, I'm good," she responded.

"So how was Christmas? Whatchu do? Spend time with your man?" Josh asked.

Malia snorted and flipped her hair. "Ain't no man. He's an insecure bum so he's gone. I stayed with my brother and his family for a few days, played with my nieces, they're so big now."

He wanted to feel bad about the way his heart leapt for joy about her relationship status. "I told you he was a bum from the jump, uce," he mumbled.

"Well, you were right. Congrats," she bit sarcastically.

"I ain't wanna be right though. I just want you to be happy," said Josh, exchanging a glance with her, his stare filled with its familiar warmth that was charged with something else.

Being here is a bad idea.

"What about you? You were with your boys and their mom, I'm guessing," she kept the conversation going.

"More of the boys, less of their mom," he clarified.

"That's it? No woman to warm your bed?"

He snorted and shot her a bombastic side-eye. "If I remember clearly, you sent the last woman I was with packin', with your razor-sharp ass tongue."

Malia burst out laughing. "Ha, that bitch? She's a clout-chasing airhead. One conversation with her and my IQ got fucked up. Stop messin' with those NXT bimbos, Joshua. It's not a good look."

"Why you so pressed though?" He had an idea, but he wanted to hear it straight from the horse's mouth.

"I'm not pressed. You smarter than that. She wasn't good for you."

"And you know this, how?"

Because she ain't me. None of them are. "I just know," was all she said.

"Huh. We seem to 'know' a lot about each other," Josh noted, "So why don't you want us to stay together?" he asked.

And there it is. "You already know the answer," she responded, with a hint of attitude.

"No I don't, so how 'bout you fill me in, huh," he retorted. They had stopped at a red light so he now had all the time to look her in the eye.

Exhaling a heavy sigh, she refused to get suckered in. "Because. Your roster is deep enough as it is," she mumbled.

"What roster?"

Malia huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Oh, we gonna play dumb now? I'm not the only woman you're fucking, Joshua."

"The last person I had sex with was you, right before you dumped me for ol' boy," Josh replied, annoyance creeping into his tone.

"Correction. I did not dump you. Dumping implies that we were dating," Malia argued. "I distinctly remember you saying you weren't looking for nothin' serious, so it ain't dumping if there's no relationship to dump."

The silence that followed was deafening, even with the music playing. The temperature in the car plummeted several degrees. Josh simply shook his head. "Damn, that how you feel all this time? Okay then." he tsked, releasing the brakes as the light turned green. "A'ight. Note taken."

The hurt swirling in his voice surprised her. Rattled, she opened her mouth to speak, but wisely decided to close it back. Because there really was nothing to say. This was the consequence of getting involved with someone without setting clear boundaries; the result of repeatedly holding off the simple task of defining a relationship — nothing but uncertainty and heartache. It was the bed she made long ago and now she had to lie in it.

But oddly enough, that seemed to be the appeal of entanglements; the thrill, the warped sense of freedom to do whatever you wanted to each other with no strings. But intimacy always had its attachments, and Malia had been attached to Josh for a long, long time with no idea how to cut the strings without getting hurt.

"The snow seems to be getting worse," she changed the subject and with good reason. They seemed to be driving into a storm. The snowfall was heavier and the nearly empty highway was turning white. "Are you sure we'll make it into Cleveland like this?"

Her question was answered only a few seconds later, by the flashing lights and flares up ahead. A car wreck, and a bad one judging from the amount of fire, rescue, and police crews on the scene. As Josh slowed the car to a crawl, they were greeted by a gruesome tableau.

The many bright, flashing lights cast a grotesque glow on the crumpled remains of an SUV. A black bag, zipped and strapped to a stretcher, was being loaded into the back of an ambulance. Malia's eyes widened with horror. The mangled car was the same type as theirs, and the driver's seat was covered in blood, a lot of it splattered on the white snow. "Oh no...Babe..." she breathed.

Her voice was tiny. Scared. Josh grabbed her hand and squeezed it repeatedly to get her attention. "Ay, don't look. Look at me," he cajoled, waiting for her to do so, running his thumb over hers to quell her panic. "I'll take the next exit. Let's find somewhere to crash until morning." He cringed. "Bad choice of words. Sorry."

"You don't mind stopping?" she asked, feeling a little sick. There was no way she was going any further with what she'd just witnessed.

"Personally, I'd rather be late gettin' where I'm going than never gettin' there at all."

"I agree. I'll check if there's any available hotels nearby," she offered, reaching for her phone in the console.

"You good?" he checked on her again, his fingers flexing around hers.

"I'm okay. It's just...that was horrible," Malia shuddered. "But you calmed me down. You've always been good at that." She smiled gratefully at him.

"Mm-hmm," he mumbled, as he lifted the back of her hand to his lips in a gentle kiss. He then rested his hand on her bare leg, running it up her smooth chocolate skin. Ironically, her dress gave him perfect access to the sensitivity of her inner thigh, and he allowed his fingers to dance over it.

Malia cast her eyes down to watch his hand disappear under her dress. This was what she liked about him so much; his boldness, his sense of adventure. Only he could dare to touch on her while driving on a dark, sleety highway. "Boy, what are you doin'?" she asked as he squeezed her thigh. She tried to play it cool, tried to act like her skin had not been set ablaze by his touch.

"Keepin' you warm," he affirmed nonchalantly, as he slid his palm over her lace panties, his favorite on her, enjoying the feel of her moist warmth against the fabric. He had since learned that he couldn't stay mad at her for long. "I miss you," he whispered, breaching her underwear with one finger.

"I miss you too," she admitted, jerking as the finger slipped inside of her. "Oh, shit," she gasped, tilting her head back against the leather headrest.

"Phew, you wet as fuck," Josh whistled, eyeing up his ex with a Cheshire Cat-like grin. "Ol' boy wasn't fuckin' you like he should?"

Before she could answer, he slid another digit into her wetness, drawing another moan from her. She moved her legs further apart, causing her dress to ride higher up, and grabbed his wrist with both hands. "Fuck, yeah," she sighed, going slack in her seat.

Maybe it wasn't the brightest idea, Josh realized, as the sound of her wanton moans filled the car. As her pussy tightened around his fingers. He wasn't doing much for his own erect state by doing this, but the look on her face convinced him to keep going. He leaned over and kissed her cheek, keeping his eyes on the road. "How's that feel, hmm?" he asked.

The only response she could muster was another breathy moan while strengthening her grip on his wrist. She didn't want to come just yet, but between his fingers twisting deep inside her tightening core and the added heat rushing through her, she knew she wouldn't last long. She wanted this to last forever, just like every time she was with him; she clung desperately to every second, because each one was always better than the last. He just hit different. He always did.

The spell broke when she heard him curse and he abruptly stopped, slipping his fingers out of her. "The fuck?" she whined.

"Sorry, I had to," Josh explained, pointing. The smoky haze of passion and frustration cleared quickly enough for her to realize they had left the expressway and were now pulling into the parking lot of a hotel. Crossing her arms petulantly, she sat up straighter and pouted. "Goddamn tease. You ain't slick," she grumbled.

"Nope. But you are," he emphasized, holding up his fingers covered in her essence and bringing them to his mouth. "Mmm, sweet and spicy, like always."

His dirty snicker had her pussy clenching again. This man was going to be the death of her.

Parking the Expedition in front of the hotel door, they rushed in with their bags to the check-in desk and found the exhausted-looking receptionist behind the counter. It was clear they'd had a massive influx of people and that she was the only one handling everything.

"You're just in luck. We have one room left," the lady replied when Josh asked her if they had any vacancies. "It's probably our smallest room and only has one queen-sized bed, but it's perfect for a lovely couple like yourselves," she smiled warmly.

"We'll take it," Josh responded, handing over his credit card before Malia could reject it. Given the state of the weather outside and that horrendous crash they came across, it was likely the best, safest option.

They got the keycards and made a quick stop at the nearby Chipotle to get some food. Josh paid again, boxing Malia against the counter with his big frame and frowning menacingly at the cashier who had the nerve to flirt with her. Though there technically was no territory to mark, she didn't mind. Besides, it was cold outside and his body heat was inviting and much needed. Afterwards, they returned to the hotel and made it into the small room that was warm, toasty, and quite clean, making them feel a bit better that they wouldn't be stuck in some Bates Motel-type murder house.

"Last time we were stuck in a room together, we spent all afternoon working out how many pinning combinations we could make each other come in," Malia reminisced as she bit into her burrito.

"Yeah. I remember winning," Josh grinned proudly. "You can have the bed, by the way," he gestured to her. "Imma sleep on the couch, give you some space."

"Why?" Malia gave him a stern look. "The bed is big enough for both of us. Plus, your back will be fucked up if you sleep on that lil ass couch."

She wasn't wrong; the couch felt rather firm and it wouldn't be pleasant. Josh was trying to be a gentleman, but he ultimately agreed since driving tomorrow with a backache did not sound ideal.

After finishing their meals, they settled in, and Malia texted the Talent Relations rep to inform them of her and Josh's whereabouts. Unfortunately, the weather forecast on TV was pretty grim as they were expecting upwards of forty inches of snow. Getting to their destination in time tomorrow would be a tough ask.

Josh used the bathroom first to give Malia some privacy. When he re-emerged, she was stripped down to a short white bathrobe that did nothing to hide that body of hers, giving him a little peek of her voluptuous behind as she picked up her toilet bag.

Fuck.

"Babe, do you got a spare shirt I can sleep in?" She stood back upright, her throat drying up at the sight of his towel hanging low on his hips. She watched the rivulets of water drip down his tattooed chest and felt parched.

Josh swallowed. "Sure, I got somethin'." He crossed the room, reached inside his open luggage and pulled out a 'YEET' hoodie. "This okay?"

He gazed into her eyes, and Malia felt her knees quiver, almost like they were threatening to collapse beneath her. "Yeah, thanks," she smiled, taking the hoodie.

"You called me babe again." There was a small, teasing smile on his face.

Malia felt her face burn. "Oh, um...Yeah. Habit. Sorry..." Lost for words, she quickly departed, silently willing her limbs to not give out on her.

Waiting until the door had closed behind her, Josh sank down on the bed and tried to focus on the TV. He could hear her moving around. Brushing her teeth. Undressing. Rubbing his face, he groaned when he heard the shower start. After their argument in the car and what he did afterwards, his emotions were all over the place, and now they had to share this bed. Keeping his hands to himself was going to be a tough ask.

Keep your hands to yourself, Malia repeated to herself over and over as she finished up her skincare routine. It's just one night. Behave yourself. What happened in the car meant nothing.

Yes it did, the voice she fondly named 'Delulu', debated, He misses you, he said so himself. That's why he acted the way he did in the car. That's why he almost bit that cashier's head off in Chipotle.

She had a point. She recalled the full-blown lust in his eyes as he touched her, the eager movement of his fingers inside her as though he couldn't stop himself. Overall, it felt good to know he wasn't quite over her just as she wasn't quite over him.

Don't do it, her other voice, dubbed 'You Right' because it always was, warned. You're just his plaything, always have been. Why do you want to play house with a guy who doesn't love you like you love him? He just misses the pussy. That's it.

Good point.

But I miss the dick too! 'Delulu' pouted.

'You Right' rolled her eyes. Too bad. Take another shower, a cold one this time.

With a heavy sigh, Malia wrapped up her hair and put on her pajamas for the night. The hoodie was big on her, reaching her thighs. She decided against panties, having made up her mind about the voice she was going to listen to.

She returned to the warmth of the bedroom, instantly landing on the ruggedly handsome man stretched out on the left side of the bed. His favorite side. His gaze flickered from the TV to her, his lips twitching into a small smile.

"You make my merch look so sexy, baby," he commented.

"Why thank you Daddy," she replied, then froze, her eyes wide. Shit, did she just say that out loud? Judging from the heated look in his eyes, the answer was yes. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife as they regarded each other.

Sitting up straight in the bed, Josh clapped his hands. "A'ight, enough of this. Come here," he growled.

She thought he would never ask. She hurried to the bed and crawled towards him. He sat up straighter and reached for her, their lips crashing together before he had finished pulling her onto his lap. All the weeks of pent-up urges and desires came pouring out of them both as they kissed like the desperate, needy souls they had become. They only pulled back long enough to take off his t-shirt before they embraced again. His bronzed skin was warm underneath her palms, the touch of his hands seemingly burning through the hoodie onto her own.

Without breaking the kiss, Josh shifted so that they were lying on their sides, helping her tug his sweatpants down his hips. Once they were gone, he pulled her tightly against him as he slid his leg between hers, draping her top leg over his waist. He then pushed his hands under her hoodie, his fingers digging into her waist to grind her against his thigh. Malia smiled at his surprised gasp, his realization that she was wearing his merch and only that. She knew he could feel the moistness of her core, smearing his upper thigh as their kisses got even more heated. She let him pull off the hoodie, and Josh's eyes blazed with need as he gathered her right breast in his hand and devoured it with sucks and licks. Meanwhile her hand wrapped around his dick, stroking for a few moments before easing him inside her.

"Oh, shit," Josh froze, his expression slightly panicked, "I ain't got-"

"Calm down, I still got my IUD. You good." She kissed his lips and reared back a little, letting him push fully inside her, and he ripped his mouth from hers in a low groan and tucked his face in her neck.

"Fuck, Malia..."

She moaned with him, gripping his muscular shoulders as he moved inside her, and groaned again when his hand scraped down her back to squeeze her ass cheek tightly.

"Mmmph..."

"Yeah, I know you like that," he whispered, slapping her ass this time, his breath hot and heavy against her face. "Say my name baby, call out for me."

"Joshua...Daddy..."

"Mm-hmm, I love it. God, you're fuckin' beautiful," he said, his voice rough with need as he tongue-kissed her slowly, matching his grinding thrusts, sending chills running all over her body.

"Ohhh," she gasped, tensing in his arms, bewildered by her desire for him.

"Relax. I gotchu," he promised with another hungry, borderline sloppy kiss. He was nearing the pit of her stomach with his lengthening strokes, but he wanted more. He held up her thick thigh, automatically sliding him even deeper inside her. A big smile lit up his face as her mouth fell open; he knew she could feel all of it, the head of his dick toying with her g-spot, her breathing quickening as her slick moisture made its presence known with every push of his dick into her.

"Hear that?" Josh whispered, "Hear how wet you are?"

Malia dug her nails into his skin, staccato breaths pulling from her lungs as he rammed up into her again and again. "Shit," she whined, "Aw fuck, please don't stop," she begged, tears gathering in her eyes at the thought of him ceasing his actions.

"I ain't stoppin' baby." He couldn't seem to stop kissing her, doing it again as he increased his speed, his dick all up in her wet pussy. The sensations were dizzying, taking her to another dimension. "Uuuunh," she cried out with a shudder, the flutter of her pussy around his cock sending shockwaves of pleasure through her.

"You wanna come, babe? Wanna come for Daddy huh?" He pressed his forehead against hers, his hypnotic eyes holding her gaze as her whimpers for him grew louder. "Come, Malia," he urged with gritted teeth, his heart pounding from the emotions vibrating through him. "Come, baby girl. Nut on Daddy's dick. You look so beautiful when you come."

Malia heard what sounded like waves crashing in her ears. Immediately her body seized up, and her voice was a high-pitched cry as the pleasure ripped through her. Moaning his name repeatedly, her head fell back and she saw stars as the bliss took over.

Man, she missed being touched like this, kissed like this...fucked like this.

Still trembling, she was vaguely aware of him pulling out, letting her leg down and rolling on top of her. Stroking her face, he stared at her with a mix of wonder and tenderness and something else she couldn't quite determine in his eyes.

"What?" she pressed.

Josh licked his lips, looked away for a second and then back at her.

"I love you."

She expected to be shocked, stunned by his declaration. Instead, it felt more like a eureka moment, like she had finally cracked a passcode she had been struggling with for eons, like the world had at last righted itself after an eternity of confusion.

"What took you so long?" she asked, emotion seeping through her tone.

"I don't know," he confessed, and when her brows furrowed, he elaborated. "I just know I can't do this no more. I'm fuckin' tired. I been feelin' this way for too long. You the only one that makes me feel like this."

"Like how?" she breathed. She wanted to hear it, wanted to know if his agony has been anything similar to hers for the past couple of months.

"Like I'm empty inside when I'm not with you. Even when I'm with someone else, I feel like I'm cheating on you," he went on, suddenly feeling free, unburdened. "I can't stop thinking about you, can't function...I don't just want sex, Malia. That's all good but I wanna be your man. For real this time. I want you."

There it was again, that intensity in his eyes that never failed to steal what was left of her breath. If this was a dream, she did not want to wake up. "I love you too. I wanna be with you. Let's not break up ever again. I don't like not being around you," she admitted.

"Same here," he said, covering her mouth with his. This kiss was so passionate, so deep and all-consuming, that she struggled to hang on to her sanity. She groaned against his mouth as he found his way back inside her with a couple of swift, seamless strokes. Her wetness instantly enveloped him again, prompting his hips to roll seemingly on their own accord. Malia wound her arms around him, holding him as close to her as possible. There was no more talk after that, letting their bodies do the talking, writhing together as if they were meant to exist that way.

"Wrap your legs around me, baby," he told her.

Immediately, she wound them around his waist with her ankles locked tight behind his lower back as he rocked into her. She moved with him, matching his tempo in a sweet symphony. There was no space between their flesh; and whatever tiny space remained was closed off with delicious, decadent kisses with lots of tongue. They savored every second in each other, every gasp and moan they elicited from the other. Her wetness compromised the friction between them as his dick slipped in and out of her with ease that still kept her walls snug and taut around him.

"God, you feel so good, baby," she moaned in his ear, weaving her fingers through his soft hair, anchoring him to her as though fearful that he would slip away at any given moment.

"I can feel you dripping all over my dick. You make me wanna pound this good pussy," he mumbled against her neck, his tongue swiping over her heated skin.

"Then pound it," she murmured, spearing him with a hot, hungry look when their eyes met. "Pound my pussy, Daddy, I need it," she practically begged, her voice a pleading whine.

"Bet." Caressing her thighs for a few seconds, he then propped her legs on each of his broad shoulders. Her gaze met the ceiling, clouded over with lust as he hunched over her, working his big dick in her. All she could see within the bluish hue of the small room was his larger, muscular body looming over her, like a glowing, almost nightclub-like dreamscape. His chest tattoos were a beautiful mural that she couldn't stop herself from worshiping, and she leaned up to drag her tongue along his nipple, flicking the hard bud playfully as she caressed his triceps. She was rewarded with harder snaps of his hips, his balls mashing against her ass from how deep he was digging. Every time she tried to look at it, she would grow weak from the sensitivity and fall back against the bed.

"Fuck, Joshua..."

"Mmhmm, I know it feel good. Your tight little pussy is creaming for me," he rasped. Holding her down to the bed, he circled his hips while buried in her for good measure, making her pussy greedily grip the entirety of his girthy length and wringing moans of pleasure from both of them. Dipping her hand down between her thighs, she rubbed on her clit only for her eyes to roll back as an intense fire lit inside her like a firework. Then, clearly intending to destory her, he sat back on his knees and wrapped his arms around her thighs, holding them to his chest as he thrust faster and harder.

"Oh my god," Malia sighed, planting one hand up against the headboard to steady herself. She could feel her breasts bouncing recklessly with each stroke, felt his long fingers grab one and massage it in his hands, then the other, arousing her even more. His dick pulsed inside her as she tightened around him with increasing frequency. She willingly let him take her as he wanted, because she wanted to feel all of him, savor the sight of him breaking down and plunging headfirst into that secret place of pleasure that belonged to them and them alone.

The tricky part was Josh wanted to take her there first. He switched up again by pinning her knees into the pillow on either side of her head, opening her wide. He fucked her like a man possessed, the force of his movements knocking the bed hard and repeatedly against the wall. His hard, pounding thrusts had her pushing her face into the pillow and screaming into it. They hoped the room was soundproof. Either way, he didn't stop, not until the coil inside her body unraveled, and Malia screamed again as she came, hard and hot, her orgasm flushing through her like a tidal wave. It was the sweetest, the realest, the product of the joining of not just their bodies, but something deeper, too.

Josh must have been thinking the same thing, because when he stopped to stare her down again with those beautiful eyes of his, they glittered with warmth and affection. They gazed at each other, the stunned joy of their shared feelings morphing into something richer, something fiercer. He really did love her, she could see it right there on his face. She didn't quite know how she managed to miss it before.

The air between them thickened as they remembered they were still naked and entwined. Reverting back to their primal, passionate state, Josh moved again, thrusting all up in her dripping tightness. Malia gripped his hips to pull him deeper, her fingers digging into the flesh of his ass as he pounded into her with newfound ruthlessness. The mattress squeaked underneath them, mixing with their moans and whimpers and the wet slapping sounds of their bodies. He was close; his strokes became increasingly erratic, his grunts heavier and more vocal, his cock pulsing inside her pussy and his balls tightening.

"Fuuuck, I'm comin' baby, come catch this nut," he pulled out of her and quickly straddled her torso, stroking his dick in her face. Malia opened her mouth wide and poked out her tongue, watching his gorgeous face twist in painful pleasure as he unloaded in her mouth, thick spurts of his salty sweet cum flooding her tongue. Completely turned on, she rubbed herself with one hand and grabbed his dick with the other, stroking him harder to milk him to the last drop. His deep, throaty groan broke her all over again, plummeting her into another incredible orgasm, brought on by the sheer power of his.

Josh's chest heaved as he watched her slap his dick on her open tongue, coated white with his release. He then ordered in a husky voice, "Swallow it."

Malia obeyed heartily, slipping his cum down her throat then gently sucked him off for a couple of seconds, moaning softly from the unique taste of him mixed with her. Josh fought off the urge to nudge his dick deeper into her mouth and pulled away to lie down next to her. The realization of what had just happened must have hit both of them at the same time, because with one glance at each other, they burst out laughing.

"Damn," was all she had the energy to utter, allowing him to pull her against him as their joint laughter rumbled between them. He fucked the shit out of her. She felt like a brand new woman, even now, as he ran his hands all over her body, gifting her with a breathless kiss to her succulent lips. "I guess Lina's plan worked," she giggled, snuggling against him.

"Yeah," Josh agreed, his features suddenly serious as he carefully tucked a loose piece of her hair back underneath her scarf. "I ain't like how you be pushin' me away, Malia," he grumbled, "Don't be scared of us and what we got."

Not for the first time, she wished she'd been brave enough to express her true feelings. "It's not you I'm scared of... I'm scared of us falling apart if we become serious, and I don't wanna live without you," she confessed.

Josh chuckled and pressed his mouth to each of her palms. "You already can't," he smirked.

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly and smacked his arm. "You don't gotta agree."

"It's the truth though. But like I said, I love you and I'm not going anywhere. I mean that," he promised.

Hearing those three words from him again made her feel all giddy inside. "I love you, too," she whispered, smiling softly against his lips when he dropped a tender kiss to hers.

"How long's it been since we last fucked?" he inquired.

Two months and three weeks, but who was counting? "Couple of months," she answered, keeping it cool.

"Shame on us. I think we can make up for it, right?"

Malia raised an eyebrow when he started to crawl down her body, sprinkling butterfly kisses down her belly until his head was between her legs. Her body flushed with need. "You know we need to go to bed, right?" she questioned, her fingers sneaking into his hair despite her half-hearted protest.

"I know. But this pretty pussy is callin' my name." He winked at her and bit gently on her inner thigh, dangerously close to her throbbing treasure, soothing the skin with a wet lick. Her keening moan was all he needed to hear. "Now lay your sexy ass back and let Daddy eat."

And with that, he bent his head and spread his mouth over her, wiping every rational thought she owned with mind blowing pleasure.

THE END

-----------------

So...did you like it?

Please leave feedback/comments. I appreciate them as they help me improve my writing.

Thank you all so much for reading!

TAGGING: @jxtina-86 @romanreignseater @harlem11680 @fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41 @alyyaanna @squishyguishy @jstarr86 @murrylove @reci24 @thewarlordsworld @mzv11 @cozyaliensuperstar7 @jeysuso @nayys-world @hunnidmilly @cyberdejos2 @papireigns-05 @niknakbucks92 @captainwithoutmakingitlove @sovereigngoth @aisharmi @kennedi0818 @alichesmi @thesamoanqueen @herwickedlittlesins @harmshake @questionable-behaviour @tribalchiefreigns @2-muchsauce @thatbxtchsblog @raya-hunter01 @marchi36753 @lovelysuccess @christinabae @wooahmiri @thatonecarebear @tabletheofhead @rheaanddamianfan @vebner37 @hanley1577 @princessesareforsuckers @-naturally @joannasteez @bbygirlky18 @lilucey @theninthwonder @melaninsugababy @chocovibesonly @msbluehaz3 @scarlettnoir01 @heerah34 @empressdede @tbmotw @darkangelchronicles @visionarymode @marasdeathnote @aintnorainbows @meggylynnloves @shantinextdoor @harlemblipster @trc-punzel @afterdarkprincess @nbanenefrmdao @sassginaswanmills @purplehairgawdess @holisticcoach

#jey uso #main event jey uso #jey uso smut #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso imagines #jey uso x black reader #jey uso imagine #jey uso x black oc #the bloodline #jey uso x reader #jey uso x oc

377 notes · View notes

ayeforscotland · 1 year

Text

British Police Copaganada Furry Discourse

Had to get your attention somehow.

UK-based Cleveland Police tweeted this today. Apparently a 14 year old furry has drawn furry art of one of their police officers.

Complete with gun, which British Police don’t carry normally.

Except…turns out it’s not from the artist they’re claiming it is? The real artist is on Instagram saying they’re being impersonated by some random on a twitter account that was created *this month*

Police are so desperate for PR that they won’t even do surface level investigation into some random furry art.

Incredible story, happy December everybody.

#ayeforscotland #british politics #uk politics

2K notes · View notes

probably-writing-x · 4 months

Text

When The Ball Drops

Conrad x Y/n

Summary: You and Conrad had become fast friends, and you were convincing yourself it was nothing more. But new years always brought new beginnings, right?

There were a lot of things that Conrad disliked. Pineapple on pizza, films with stupid plot twists, wearing suits when the shirt felt too tight around his neck, when his brother would get into those moods and just whinge about everything. And New Years. He hated New Years.

He’d never been the biggest fan, but it had felt a hundred times worse since his Mom had passed. The year turning to the next just felt like the continuous reminder that he was going into another chapter of his life without her in it. And as much as the firsts were coming and going - the first summer without her, the first thanksgiving, the first christmas - there was still more to come. And every new year would now be another new year where Conrad didn’t have his Mom. And that made him HATE new years.

He wanted to forget it was happening this year. He’d go to sleep at 11:50, wake up the following morning and forget that anything had changed. He’d miss the fireworks, he’d avoid the celebrations, forget the new years kisses, and simply wake up for another new day.

“Conrad Beck Fisher are you even listening to me?”

It’s your voice that breaks him from his thoughts.

He glances up from where his eyes had been focused on a single spot on the kitchen floor, turning his attention across to where you were stood on the opposite side of the kitchen island. You were spreading a thin layer of mayonnaise over the sandwich you were making for him.

“I-“ He clears his throat, “What were you saying?”

You shake your head at him and let out a soft chuckle - Conrad’s sure in that moment he’d pause and playback that exact sound just so he could hear it again.

“I was saying…”

You and him had met this past summer. Cleveland had got Conrad a job on a yacht to keep him busy over the summer to ‘take his mind off things’. You happened to have a job on that same boat working as a server. At first, Conrad had been nothing short of cold to you. He was blunt, he was rude, he practically ignored you and everyone else for that matter. It was a couple of weeks later when you wore him down a little bit more. He started to say hello to you at the start of a shift, he offered to help you carry the crates of drinks on board, he stood with you whilst you cleaned the glasses and he had nothing to do until the guests came on board. Eventually, he started taking on more shifts so that he was always on the same days as you were. And that then turned into him driving you to and from your shifts most days - on the days when he didn’t, it would be you offering to drive him instead. He lived further away than you did and he practically had to pass your house to get to work anyway but that didn’t matter, you felt guilty if you never offered to pick him up. It was on those drives that he first started opening up to you. He told you about everything his family had been through. He told you about his Mom, his brother Jere, his relationship with his father, and the Conklin family whom you’d quickly learnt meant the world to him and Jeremiah. He told you about college and his dreams of working in medicine. He asked you about your family, found out about your own plans with college and your career. Despite the initial coldness, Conrad quickly became one of your closest friends.

When summer ended, you both went your separate ways. But he started to text you more then. He’d send you videos that he thought were funny, and he’d send you photos of the assignments he had for class that week. Those texts turned into calls when you both needed to revise some nights. Those calls turned into midnight deep confessions, him telling you he was scared of losing Jeremiah, confessing that he felt insanely out of his depth at college. You listened. And Conrad became more certain than ever over those few months that you were the best friend he’d ever had. He never told anyone as much as he told you.

“Okay you’re not listening and you’re not getting your sandwich now,” You wipe your hands on the kitchen towel, the sandwich now cut in two triangle halves and presented on the plate in front of you.

“No, no, I am listening,” Conrad ensures you, “You were saying about…”

You walk around to the other side of the counter until you’re stood in front of him, taking one half of the sandwich from the plate and nodding your head towards him, “About?” You take a bite of the food.

“About…” He clears his throat again, “Jake from work and how my brother asked you… something.”

You chuckle at him again, holding the sandwich out for him to take it from you, “Your brother has invited people for tomorrow night, and he asked me to invite people from work. So I texted Jake, Allie and Peter, and they can all make it.”

Conrad groans, “I told Jere I didn’t want to do anything, I’m not doing a party.”

“Conrad,” You raise your eyebrows at him as if you’re waiting for the reasonable half of him to return.

He instead bites the sandwich and stares into your eyes as if he can see your soul behind them.

“I think it’ll be fun. And Jere’s been planning it all week,” You point out.

Conrad shrugs his shoulders, “I don’t know what we have to celebrate.”

“Con,” You try to speak softly, not wanting to overstep a line you weren’t sure existed, “I think it’ll be good for Jere. He could probably do with the distraction. Plus, you guys haven’t seen Belly and Steven in ages and I haven’t even met them yet so that’s reason in itself to have a party.”

Conrad rolls his eyes, “I’ll stay until midnight and then I’m done.”

“Wow, to what do we owe the pleasure?”

He blinks at you as if waiting for you to retract your sarcastic remark.

“Oh, and Jere asked us to go shopping for supplies so I’m gonna go pee and then we’ll leave yeah?”

“What?” Conrad half chokes on the food in his mouth, “I didn’t agree to shopping.”

You’ve disappeared out of the room before he gets a response from you.

———

Conrad drives to the store which means he also gets to pick the music, though he opts for your playlist anyway. It’s colder in Cousins now and it doesn’t quite feel the same without the windows down and the air ripping through the car, both of you hot and bothered after a shift at work. But there was something comforting about being back with Conrad again. You’d missed him for the few months you’d been apart.

“Okay so what do we actually need?” He asks you as both of you step out of the car, making your way across the empty parking lot.

“Well, party supplies,” You shrug, “All the usual stuff.”

“And this needs two people? Why couldn’t Jere do it?” He grumbles, pulling out a cart from the waiting line.

“Conrad do you ever stop complaining?” You scoff, trying to wiggle the next cart free as the wheel gets stuck in your attempts.

“Here,” Conrad leans over behind you, his arms either side of you as his hands settle over yours on the handle of the cart, tugging sharply to free it for you.

You pause there for just a moment and so does he, until both of you seem to snap back to reality and his hands part from yours almost as quickly as they’d arrived.

“Alright come on, let’s get in and out before you complain any more,” You encourage, “We’ll both fill up on supplies and you can just be there to silently hate your life and store things in your cart. We need cups, plates, food, decorations, everything okay?”

His shoulders drop as if in defeat but he agrees with you nonetheless, letting you go in ahead of him so that he can watch as you disappear down the aisles, already reaching for things to put into the cart in front of you.

—

The two of you browse each one of the aisles and you switch between throwing things into yours and his carts, slowly filling them with each aisle you went down.

“What even is that?” He frowns, examining the last thing you’d picked up.

“Photo booth decorations,” You grin, “It’s not a party if there’s not good opportunity for photos.”

Conrad stares at you as if the words had made him hate you the tiniest bit for the tiniest amount of time.

“You know, I really think you need cheering up Conrad,” You point out, eyeing up the shelves until you find what you wanted.

You reach for the rainbow boa and lift it over the back of his neck, smoothing your hands down the bright feathers that fell down either side of his chest. Conrad suppresses a sigh and it bobs into his Adam’s apple instead, his jaw clenching as he looks at you. There’s a hint of a smile on his lips however, the faint evidence that he couldn’t not love to see you happy.

“You look ready to celebrate now,” You grin.

“Are you sure about that (Y/l/n)?” He raises his brows, turning around to pick something up from the shelf behind him, “Because I think this is much better.”

A pair of flower shaped golden yellow glasses now covered his eyes, his lips curling into a reluctant smile. You laugh the kind of laugh that throws your head back, clasping your hands together.

Conrad knew he looked like an idiot. He knew this was probably the most colour he’d ever worn. He knew the feathers were itching his neck and the glasses were tight on the top of his nose. But it didn’t matter. You were laughing and he was sure that was a sound he’d do anything to hear.

“I think they need to go in the basket,” You encourage, taking the glasses slowly from his face.

Your fingertips brush the temples of his head, grazing across his skin with such minimal intensity and yet he still feels his cheeks burn a fiery red at the contact.

“Come on Fisher, we just need mixer and then we’re done.”

You disappear around the corner of the next aisle before he has a chance to think about it any longer.

———

The following day you spend the majority of your time helping Jeremiah set up for the party. Whilst you were here for the couple of weeks over winter break, you’d been staying in the spare room so you’d started to get used to this house.

You helped him hang up streamers in the lounge and balloons from every inch of space in every room you could find. There were helium balloons that read ‘happy new year’ across one of the sets of cupboards in the kitchen and the paper plates and cups had already been set up on the countertop.

Conrad had disappeared earlier this morning to go to surf and you hadn’t seen him all day since. You couldn’t blame him. He didn’t want the party, let alone for it to consume his entire day.

“So do you think my brother’s going to make it to midnight?” Jeremiah asks, stretching a deflated balloon between the fingertips of both of his hands.

“Id be surprised if he came at all,” You joke, dangling your feet over the edge of the kitchen island where you were sat.

Jeremiah scoffs, “You’re going to be there, he wouldn’t not come.”

“Wh-“ You let out a laugh, “We’re friends. He wants to see me just like he wants to see everyone.”

“Come on,” Jeremiah rolls his eyes, “You can’t be serious.”

You frown just a little and he must notice the expression on your face, interjecting quickly before your concern can increase.

“I just think he cares about you, is all,” Jere encourages, “And it takes a lot for Conrad to be as open with someone as he is with you. You’re good for him, that’s all I mean.”

You nod and offer him a small smile, “Well then I’ll make sure he stays until midnight, at least just to see the ball drop.”

Jeremiah grins, “You have a deal.”

He glances at the time on his phone and his eyes widen at the screen, which he turns around to you quickly.

“Bells and Steven are almost here.”

You were yet to meet the pair that the Fisher brothers spoke to highly of. But you’d heard enough about them to feel like you knew them already. And you also knew that you were about 95% sure that Jere had a thing for Belly. You’d decide that for yourself once you saw them together.

You’re just about to hop down from the countertop when you hear the back door open and turn to see Conrad walking in. His hair is damp and there’s a towel slung over his shoulders.

“There you are!” You smile, “I was starting to think you’d froze out there.”

He laughs and walks around the counter and over to you, standing just close enough to you that his thighs bump against your calves still dangling over the edge.

“It was pretty cold,” His voice is soft as if it’s been drained by the freezing temperatures of the water, his lips ever so slightly blue.

You run your hands down his arms, the cold of his skin.

“You must be freezing,” You frown, squeezing at the skin as if you wanted to inject some warmth into him.

He hums in agreement, his eyes on you as yours seemingly scan him, full of worry, “I’ll warm up.”

His voice is soft, softer than usual as if he doesn’t want to disturb the moment by talking.

“You haven’t told me that the decorations look nice,” You point out, furrowing your brows at him.

Conrad tears his eyes away from you to glance around at the room, eyes scanning all of it before returning back to you, “It’s definitely something.”

“Something,” You narrow your eyes, “You’re such a party pooper.”

“They’re here!” Jere yells out, shortly followed by the sound of the front door opening.

“They’re here!” You repeat to Conrad, your hands moving to his shoulders to steady you as you hop down from the counter, “Time for me to make a good first impression.”

He mumbles so quietly under his breath that youre too far away to hear as he says “It would be impossible for you to give a bad one.”

—

Belly Steven and Taylor climb out of the car and hurry straight over to Jere, engulfing him in a hug of reunion amongst a chorus of overlapping conversation.

Conrad walks out with you and steps forward to greet the three of them, ruffling his hand over Belly’s hair.

“There’s someone you guys need to meet,” He mentions, glancing back at you with a smile warming his face, “This is (Y/n)… my friend.”

“Yeah, hey, it’s so nice to finally meet you guys! I’ve heard a lot about you,” You step forward and smile, “Like a lot about you.”

Steven laughs, “Yeah the boys are obsessed with us, that makes sense.”

“Oh my god I love your hair how do you get it like that?” Taylor steps forward and starts conversation with you.

“Oh um thanks, yeah-“ You glance up and see Conrad looking at you, that same warm smile on his face as if he was relieved you’d finally met this part of his life.

“I’ll take your bags inside,” You hear Conrad mention, soon feeling the soft touch of his hand on your back as he leans down to pick up Taylor’s bag from next to her feet.

His touch lingers for a moment longer, the faintest pressure on your skin. You’re certain the contact is electric, only recognising it in his absence.

———

“Hey Bells I told (Y/n) she could get ready with us in here,” Taylor encourages as she pushes open the door to the bedroom they were sharing.

Belly looks up from where she was sat in front of the vanity mirror fixing her hair, “Oh, yeah sure.”

“Sorry, I’m pretty sure I’ve been stealing Steven’s room whilst I’ve been here so I’ll try not to be in the way,” You smile.

“No don’t be silly you’re not in the way, right Belly?”

“Yeah, right.”

You take a seat on the floor in front of the window and make use of the disappearing natural light whilst it was still here.

“Okay so tell us everything (Y/n), what’s going on with you and Conrad?” Taylor asks, perching on the floor in front of the full length mirror.

“I-“ You laugh a little, “I met him at work, we both worked on this yacht over the summer. And I think if you spend any time with someone in that place you either hate them or become inseparable. And apparently me and Conrad were the second option.”

“Inseparable huh?” Taylor grins.

“Oh no no I just mean he’s like the only person in Cousins I spend any time with nowadays,” You laugh, “He’s just a good friend.”

“Really? Because the way he looked at you earlier didn’t look like friends, right Belly?”

Belly glances up from the mirror and you notice her pause momentarily, swallowing a lump in her throat, “I don’t- I mean I guess I didn’t notice.”

You offer her a smile and there are the faintest hints of her returning the gesture but they disappear quickly.

Conrad had mentioned to you that things had changed with him and the Conklins ever since his Mom had passed. He mentioned that the start of the summer was shitty but that things had worked out afterwards, when you and him became friends. But he never mentioned it in too much detail. He preferred to tell you of the years before and every memory of summers he had with them.

“You’re not looking for a new years kiss then (Y/n)?” Taylor asks you.

“No, no, not me,” You shake your head, “I don’t even know who I could see myself with.”

You set your makeup bag out onto the floor and Taylor plays music through her phone and the conversation dies down into the three of you singing along to the music instead. Belly’s quiet though, you can tell. It might be the day you’d met her but anyone could read that something was off.

———

You’ve smoothed your hands over your dress a million times and it still doesn’t seem to sit right. But you ignore it when you hear the door open again and more guests pour inside. You grab your phone from the bed and run a hand through your hair before hurrying outside and towards the stairs.

The party is already spilling through the entire house, oddly busy for how quiet Cousins felt during the winter. Jeremiah must’ve invited everyone they knew and told them all to bring friends.

You shuffle past a bunch of people you don’t recognise, spotting the familiar curls of Jere across the crowd to give you enough of a focus of where you were heading. The music was loud and you needed a drink.

“There you are!” Taylor grins when she sees you, “I was just about to come and find you.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t decide if I wanted to change again,” You smile, glancing down at your dress again.

“Well it’s good you didn’t, you look killer,” She encourages, “Right Belly?”

“Yeah you look really pretty (Y/n),” Belly smiles a little bashfully in your direction as if she’s silently trying to apologise for something. Maybe she knew how it came across earlier, because you were already at least 70% sure that this girl didn’t like you, and you weren’t even sure what you’d done.

“Oh come on we have to dance to this one,” Steven grins, reaching over for Taylor’s hand and dragging her with him into the mass of people that were seemingly forming some sort of dance floor.

Belly steps around the kitchen counter so she’s stood closer to you as Jeremiah is busy chatting to a boy you didn’t recognise. You hadn’t seen Conrad yet.

“So how come you’re here for the new year?” Belly asks you, taking a quick sip from the red solo cup in her hand.

“Oh, yeah, well I told Conrad I didn’t have plans over the winter break and he told me to come and stay with them since they’d be here alone,” You nod, “And I didn’t have anything better to do.”

She nods, “So you two are pretty close then?”

“Well,” You shake your head, “We’re just fast friends, I don’t think it’s much more than that.”

“Conrad never makes fast friends,” Belly shakes her head, “And this is like the happiest I’ve seen him since… everything.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. Before today, you’d never thought too much about things between you and Conrad. You liked being friends with him so much that you were scared of ruining it - and thinking of him as more than a friend would definitely ruin that. You thought you knew Conrad’s type and you weren’t that. He saw you as a friend, the way a guy is different with the girls he doesn’t see something with. You’d convinced yourself of that early on and it was only today where your thoughts of that had started to change a little. Maybe he could see you as more than a…

No. He was your friend.

“Speak of the devil…” Belly’s voice trails off as she finishes off the rest of her drink.

“Okay who are these people?” Conrad comes up behind you, the crowd behind him pushing against him so much so that he reaches out a hand to your waist to stabilise him a little.

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” You return, glancing up at him as he comes to stand beside you, his arm bumping your shoulder.

“Jake and Peter say hi but they’re in a beer pong tournament apparently that’s too important to leave,” Conrad explains, grabbing a beer bottle from the open box and cracking it open.

“I’ll try to catch up with them in a bit,” You nod, glancing back over your shoulder as if you’d catch them in the crowd.

“I’m going to-“ Belly clears her throat, “I’m going to find Taylor.”

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks, like you’d just been caught in the act or something. You’d never thought there was tension between you and Conrad when the two of you were together but it felt that way now and you couldn’t explain it.

“It’s weird seeing you in a dress,” Conrad comments softly, leaning down so that you can hear him a little better.

“Weird?” You practically grimace at the word, frowning a little up at him.

“A- a good weird,” He stumbles slightly into the words, “A good weird.”

“Learn how to compliment a girl Fisher,” You narrow your eyes at him, “Better than that.”

He rolls his eyes at you and grabs a red cup from the stack of unused ones, “What are you drinking (Y/l/n)?”

———

You’ve just about managed to settle into the party, and you’ve now been roped into the beer pong tournament that has absolutely strayed from being a tournament anymore. It’s just games of beer pong that don’t end. You’re on a team with Conrad and you’re playing Steven and Taylor, who are losing by two cups.

“Okay aim for that back one Taylor, any of that back line,” Steven encourages, his hands clasped together as if he’s praying,

“Steven you’re not even good at this stop coaching me,” She rolls her eyes, tossing the ball and watching as it bounces away from the table.

Steven suppresses whatever comment he was going to say and instead just wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling him into him, “We’ll get them next time.”

“You’re up (Y/l/n),” Conrad nods, leaning back against the wall behind the two of you, arms crossed as he watches you.

You throw the ball and it bounces once, landing in their front cup with a splash.

“That’s my girl,” Conrad beams, looping an arm around your shoulders to pull you into his chest.

“My girl?” Steven laughs, “Can you two just shut up and get married already?”

You hear Steven laugh, and so does Taylor, and Jeremiah, even Belly. And Peter, Jake and Allie were only a few metres away, they probably overheard it too. Were all of them thinking it?

You can’t explain it after that. You pull yourself abruptly away from Conrad’s chest, probably a little harshly. He looks down at you with a frown that quickly turns into utter concern when he sees your face, your frantic eyes.

“Wh- (Y/n) are you okay?”

“I’m sorry I-“ You drag a hand through your hair but no more words come to mind on time.

Instead, you turn and push as frantically as you can through the crowd until you reach the door to the garden, hurrying down the steps before anyone can catch up with you too soon.

———

The beach was eerie and peaceful at this time, at winter too. For as far as you could see, it was just you. You were stood on the sand a few feet away from the crashing waves. Your arms were wrapped around your torso to keep in some of the heat and you were already starting to shiver. It was nearly midnight in the middle of winter; of course you were freezing.

“(Y/n)!” It’s Conrad’s voice coming from behind you, but it sounds deeper when he’s worried, more like a bellow.

You don’t turn around.

“(Y/n) you had me worried sick, I didn’t know where you’d gone,” He breathes out a sigh of relief, “You must be freezing out here I-“

“Why do they all think something is going on with us Conrad? And why is Belly acting so weird with me? And why can’t they just accept that they’re friends? And what have you said to them about me?”

You turn around to face him and it’s as if everything rises to the surface in that exact moment.

He looks at you with worry on his face but it quickly dissipates into something more level headed as soon as your questions land.

“Okay,” He raises his hands as if in surrender, “I know they’re being assholes about us two together, but that’s just what they’re like, Steven’s an idiot and Taylor always wants to know people’s business, I promise they don’t mean any harm.”

You don’t respond.

“Belly’s weird with you because…” He takes in a deep breath, “This time last year, when my Mom was sick, I was dating Belly. It ended before my Mom died and we’ve figured out a way to be friends since but I think it’s just weird for her to see me with someone- someone that I’m close to.”

You feel your heart skip a beat, just for a second.

“I’ve told them a lot about you, I talk about you to them probably as much as I speak about them to you. You’re important to me (Y/n), and I want my family to like you.”

“But we’re just fri-“ Your voice shakes in the cold, “I mean you don’t see me like that-“

“Earlier,” He cuts you off, “When I first saw you tonight, I should’ve said you looked beautiful. That I think even with a thousand people at that party I don’t think I could find anything that would make me want to take my eyes off you. That even with a hundred voices and a million songs I don’t think anyone will ever say something that interests me as much as every word that you speak. That for the past few months I’ve felt exactly like that. That I wait for you to call and I’m sure I would talk to you every moment of the day if I could. That you look beautiful in that dress and you look beautiful every other day too, even more so when you don’t even think you do. I should’ve said that tonight and I should’ve said that long before tonight too.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, feel the blood pounding in your ears, and yet all you can focus on is him.

“The truth is I’ve been lying to you, (Y/n),” He shrugs his shoulders, “I told you that you were the best friend I’d had. And that part’s true. But where I lied is that I don’t think I could ever convince myself to be just friends with you. I’d spend too long trying to make you laugh, focus too much on every detail so that I could remember it for next time, swap my shifts to shittier days just to see your face. So I’m sorry I lied to you, but-“

You see it then. It’s Conrad. Is it Conrad? Is it really the boy you’d been spending so long convincing yourself was just a friend?

“Kiss me.”

He pauses, swallowing the lump of nerves in his throat, “I-“

“Kiss me,” You repeat, more certain of yourself.

Conrad steps forward, closing the space between you. One of his hands falls to your waist almost instinctively, the other cupping your cheek softly. His eyes flick between yours, dropping to your lips before coming back to meet your gaze. And then his lips are on yours. Soft and hesitant at first, quickly met by the pressure of his certainty. His lips move against yours like the two were made for each other, his hands holding you like they were carved for you. You feel yourself moan against his touch as his hand draws to the small of your spine to pull you closer into him, craving more of your touch.

He only pulls away when the two of you are gasping for air, his forehead coming to rest against yours. His chest rises and falls in rhythm with your own.

“That was-“ You breathe out but all of the other words disappear as you’re interrupted by the echoing chorus of a countdown from the house.

Conrad’s eyes are on you and his lips curl into a smile, “I think our new years kiss was a little early.”

You laugh as their countdown gets closer and closer to zero.

“Kiss me,” Conrad is an echo of your own words from before, more certain of himself now that his veins are flooded with adrenaline.

Three… two… one.

Your lips are on his. Soft, longing, neither of you wanting to break away.

“Happy New Year, (Y/n),” Conrad whispers the words like he doesn’t want the breeze to take them away from you, his hands on your waist holding you like he would never let go.

“Happy New Year Conrad,” You return, your cold hands cupping either side of his flushed face.

He wraps his arms around you, radiating every ounce of heat his body had left as your head rests on his chest, watching the sparkle of fireworks across the other side of the coast as they ignite into the sky. And you’re sure then that Conrad would never let those same fireworks die out. And you could stay like this forever.

#conrad fisher #conrad x reader #conrad x you #conrad x y/n #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher drabble #conrad fisher blurb #conrad fisher request #conrad fisher fic #the summer i turned pretty conrad #the summer i turned pretty

289 notes · View notes

kemetic-dreams · 9 months

Text

Leroy Robert "Satchel" Paige was born on July 7, 1906, in Mobile, Alabama. Though many speculate it may have been more like 1903.

According to Paige, his mother sent him to earn money carrying luggage for businessmen at the train station, but he was frustrated with the little money it paid. So he rigged a pole to carry several bags at once to make the job pay better, and his co-workers purportedly told him, "You look like a walking satchel tree." And his nickname stuck.

At the age of 42 in 1948, Paige was the oldest major league rookie while playing for the Cleveland Indians. He played with the St. Louis Browns until age 47, and represented them in the All-Star Game in 1952 and 1953. He was the first player who had played in the Negro Leagues to pitch in the World Series, in 1948, and was the first electee of the Negro League Committee to be inducted into the National Baseball Hall of Fame in 1971.

#african #afrakan #kemetic dreams #brownskin #brown skin #fitness #leroy robert sathel paige #leroy piage #mobile #mobile alabama #cleveland indians #st louis browns #all star gamee #national baseball hall of fame #hall of fame

574 notes · View notes

cissyenthusiast010155 · 8 months

Text

Giving into Temptation ~Melissa Schemmenti xFem Teacher!Reader

🥸 Anon ask— Hey!! ❤️❤️ I love your fics so much! These are just some ideas I had for! Feel free to mix it up if you want!! 4, 8, & 23 Melissa Schemmenti x reader‬— Hope you Enjoy 🥸 anon!!

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

#4. One bed troupe

#8. “Fuck you.” “That’s what I’m trying to do...”

#23. “Like my name that much, do you…? Moan it then… Moan my name, [insert pet-name]…”

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, One bed troupe, enemies to lovers vibes, future implied smut, smut, fingering, thigh grinding, wet dreams, degrading kink, praise kink, etc.

Enjoy (;

Melissa had really been looking forward to PECSA weekend. Until Barbara had invited you to join their drinking party.

It’s not like the two of you hated each other. It’s just that you were both very opinionated and couldn’t have a conversation without somehow butting heads. For one, you were from Cleveland. And that was all Melissa needed to know to not like you.

“Uh no no no, Barb…” Melissa complained, “I’m not letting my weekend get ruined by *Ohio*…”

Ohio was Melissa’s nickname for you…

“Now Melissa…” Barbara chided, “You will let Y/N join us. She’s new in town and to the school, she shouldn’t be all on her own at PECSA…”

Melissa grumbled a bit more about it, but eventually gave way.

~~~

“Oh Hell No…!” Melissa exclaimed, shaking her head.

“I’m sorry, miss, it’s the only room left available at the moment…” the hotel check-in attendant said.

You gulped and blushed.

“Barb please…” Melissa looked to the poised kindergarten teacher for help.

“Oh no, I’m sorry Melissa, but I need my private time…” Barbara told the desperate red head, shaking her head.

The red head groaned in frustration.

“I am not sharing a room with her…!” Melissa growled in a low tone to Barbara.

But you heard the woman…

Eventually, she gave in, as there were no other options. You all got into the elevator and traveled up to your rooms. Barbara’s room ended up being right next to yours and Melissa’s.

“Shall we say the pool bar in 45 minutes?” Barbara suggested.

You both nodded in agreement, entering your shared room. Melissa slammed the door behind you as she huffed. But you stood still in your tracks. You gulped at the sight in front of you.

There was only one bed…

As Melissa came to your side, her eyes widened at the same realization.

“Oh Fuck No…” she murmured, carrying her things in reluctantly.

“It’s fine, I uh… I can sleep on the floor…”

She looked at you quizzically.

“No. That’s disgusting. It’s fine. We’ll share.” She huffed.

“And I’ll just get hammered anyways to not remember…” she murmured to herself.

~~~

The night went by and Melissa did indeed have a lot of alcohol, but so did you. By the end of the night, you both crashed into your room and immediately collapsed on the bed. Melissa was quick to establish her side of the bed, before promptly turning away from you. You were worn out and quickly faded into a slumber after that.

~~~

“You're so wet, baby… Is that all for me…?” The woman cooed, teasing your drenched folds with her fingers and holding your legs wide open.

You bit down on your lip to muffle a moan trying to escape your lips, you nodded vigorously and panted heavily.

“Obviously it's for me… You're my little whore, aren't you?” She lustfully sneered, sliding her two digits back into your sensitive cunt.

You gasped at the sensation and her words, mewling in pleasurable overstimulation.

“I’m such a good fuck that you can't get enough of me, can you?”

“Yes yes yes…!! Please pleaseeee—!” You chanted, arching your back into her form as her fingers pounded into you. Your hips began to grind against her hand… hard…

“Such a cum slut… You would do anything to get fucked…” the woman wickedly purred.

You nodded vigorously, approaching another high quite quickly.

“You wanna cum…?” She taunted, “Say my name… Say it…”

“Mel…!” You mewl.

“Louder.”

“Melissa…!!” You cry out.

“Good slut… Cum with my name on your tongue…” the red head growls.

“Fuck— MELISSA!!” You scream, cumming all over her fingers.

~~~

You suddenly jolt awake, trembling and all hot. You look at the clock.

3:37am

You then gasp as you feel a hand on your arm. You turn around to find Melissa starring at you. She moves slightly and your breath hitches as you feel your core on her thigh. And your dripping… All over your thighs… and hers… You gulp and go red.

“I… I’m so sorry…” you whisper, immediately retracting yourself and keeping to your side of the bed.

“Nice dream…?” She chuckled.

“Shut up…” you mumbled, going an even darker shade of red.

“You know… you were talking in your sleep…” she continued.

Your eyes widened slightly. Shit shit shit… This was all becoming too much.

“You were whimpering… a name… my name.” Melissa continued.

“Fuck you. Fuck you, Melissa.” You seethed through gritted tone.

At that, the red head tugged you to the middle of the bed, pinning you below her. You yelped, but she shut you up by smashing her lips into yours.

“That’s what I’m trying to do...” she growled.

You tried to contain the moan threatening to escape your lips. Melissa then suddenly backed away, backing herself up against the headboard. You rolled back up and we’re now in between her legs. You looked at the red head in anticipation.

“Why don’t you make even more of a mess on my thighs…?” The red head taunted.

You gulped breathlessly and nodded. You quickly straddled the woman’s thigh and began grinding against it. She tensed her thigh and you mewled out in pleasure.

“Like that, baby…?” Melissa taunted.

You nodded vigorously. Suddenly, you felt the woman’s hand stabilize your sides and start really rutting you against her thigh. You were a desperate, slick mess.

“Like my name that much, do you…? Moan it then… Moan my name, baby…” The red head growled.

“Melissa please Oh God—!!” You cried out.

The red head brought you over your edge on her thigh, leaving you a panting mess. You went to lay back down, but Melissa stopped you.

“Oh, we aren’t done, Sweet girl…” the red head chuckled.

~~~

Melissa Schemmenti Masterlist

#🥸 anon #melissa schemmenti smut #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa x reader #lisa ann walter #lisa ann walter x reader #Lisa Ann Walter character #abbott elementary fandom #abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary x reader #Abbott elementary smut #one bed trope #enemies to lovers #Spotify

620 notes · View notes

jstor · 2 months

Text

Edward Christopher Williams (11 Feb. 1871 - 24 Dec. 1929) was a pioneering African American librarian, educator, and scholar who played a vital role in shaping library collections at Western Reserve University (WRU) and Howard University. Born in Cleveland to Daniel P. Williams, a prominent African American figure, and Mary Kilkary Williams, a Clevelander of Irish descent, Williams embarked on a remarkable journey of academic and professional achievement.

Graduating from Adelbert College of WRU in 1892, Williams quickly made his mark as he assumed the role of first assistant librarian at the institution. His dedication and expertise saw him ascend to the position of head librarian in 1894 and university librarian in 1898. Eager to deepen his knowledge, Williams pursued further studies in library science at the New York Library School in Albany, completing the rigorous 2-year program in just one year.

Williams's impact on WRU's library was profound; he significantly expanded its collection and elevated its standards, establishing himself as an authority in library organization and bibliography. His advocacy for the establishment of a school of library science at WRU led to its inception in 1904, where he became an esteemed instructor, offering courses in reference work, bibliography, public documents, and book selection.

A founding member of the Ohio Library Association, Williams played a pivotal role in shaping its constitution and direction. However, in 1909, he left Cleveland to assume the role of principal at M St. High School in Washington, D.C. His tenure there was marked by his unwavering commitment to education and leadership.

In 1916, Williams joined Howard University as university librarian, further cementing his legacy in the realm of academia. Not only did he oversee the university's library, but he also directed Howard's library training class, taught German, and later chaired the Department of Romance Languages.

In pursuit of academic excellence, Williams embarked on a sabbatical in 1929 to pursue a Ph.D. at Columbia University. Tragically, his studies were cut short by his untimely passing later that year.

In 1902, Williams married Ethel P. Chesnutt, the daughter of Charles Chesnutt, a renowned author. Their union bore one son, Charles, who would carry on his father's legacy in the years to come.

Read more about Edward Christopher Williams here.

#jstor #librarians #edward christopher williams #black history month

158 notes · View notes

fairy-writes · 3 months

Note

Would it be too much to ask for a William James Moriarty x Holmes sister reader? Like she's a travelling archaeologist/anthropologist who's a genius in the field and has found many artifacts and lost cities and can be a bit of an eccentric looney like her older brother Sherly but she's also incredibly kind to those in need and often donates her treasures to the less fortunate and even helps Sherly from time to time which is how he meets her and is impressed by her smarts and sarcastic wits. Also, a bit of a parkour junky likes to wear mens clothes tailored for her measurements and often wears her hair in loose buns or ponytails and loves riding horseback much to Mycroft's displeasure🤭

A BUSINESS PROPOSAL

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Moriarty the Patriot

Pairing(s): William James Moriarty x Reader

Word Count: 3k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Female!Reader, Holmes!Reader, Mildly sexist behavior from Mycroft? It is the 1800s after all.

Notes: So this was super fun to write!

Fun fact! I took an archaeology class for my associate’s degree in criminal justice and highly recommend taking one to anyone in college!

I actually took several anthropology classes (intro to anthro, bio anthro, and archaeology). I even considered switching my major to anthropology at some point! (I switched it to English lol)

PART TWO HERE

__________________________________________________________________________

Otis whinnies, and you reach forward from your place in the saddle to pat his neck.

“Easy, Otie, almost there.” You whisper to him and gently nudge him to turn down the familiar road of Baker Street. You could spot your brother’s flat from where you were at, an unfamiliar carriage parked in front. You frown briefly and then shrug. Sherlock could have whoever he liked over.

But… he did promise to take you out on the town in celebration of your latest discovery. Did he forget?

No… He wasn’t the type to forget something like that. You had been exchanging letters for weeks about your coming home.

A tall man was at the front of the carriage, tending to the horses. He had spiked black hair and a glove on one hand. He looks at you with skeptical eyes as you draw near and dismount your horse. The Cleveland Bay snorts, ruffling your hair as you smooth your hand up his snout and between his eyes. Then, you promptly tied his reins to the post outside 221B Baker Street and went up to the front door.

The door knocker was more worn than you last remembered, with the shiny brass turning a glimmering gold color from all the hands touching it. You rap the door once, twice, then a third time, and wait, stuffing your hands in your trouser pockets.

A young man opens the door, sandy blond hair combed neatly and brown eyes alight with curiosity. A grin breaks your face, and you step forward into his arms as he realizes just who is at the door.

“My dear John!” You shriek, and he chuckles, lifting you off your feet and spinning once in a circle before setting you down.

“I thought you weren’t due back for another two weeks!” He replies excitedly, and you laugh gleefully.

“We finished early! Anyhow, how’s Mary? Sherlock said you two were expecting!” You say and slap his shoulder good-naturedly. He ducks his head, a pink flush on his cheeks as he nods.

“She’s home at the mo. But yes, we’re expecting. The midwife thinks it’ll be a girl based on how she’s carrying.” He said, and before you could say any more, there was a noise at the top of the stairs.

You turn, and your grin widens even more until your cheeks hurt.

“Sherly!” You crow, and he bounds down the stairs to sweep you up in a bear hug. His boisterous laugh made your heart sing, and you buried your nose in his hair. He smelled like cigarette smoke and whiskey. He must have been on a case. He squeezes you tight and sets you down.

“I thought you were coming back in two weeks!” He exclaims, and you roll your eyes,

“So John said, I told you we finished early!” You tease, and it is then that you notice that there is someone else in the flat.

He was tall, probably around your brother’s height. He had blond hair and deep scarlet eyes that studied you with interest. He was dressed in a brown suit with a crimson tie. A lord. That much is obvious.

Sherlock notices that you notice his friend and gestures to the man at the top of the stairs.

“This is Liam! A mathematics professor at Durham University and a friend of mine who helps me on my cases.” He says proudly as “Liam” descends the stairs and approaches you.

You stick out a hand and introduce yourself. His hand is smooth like you expected, as opposed to your calloused one. You had bandages littering your fingertips from blisters from shovels and tools.

“William James Moriarty. I’ve heard stories about you.” His British lilt is proper and endearing. You feel your heart flutter and your ears burn. But you smile warmly nonetheless and give his hand a firm shake.

“As much as I’d like to say the same, Sherly has yet to tell me about you in his letters.” You direct the last sentence to your older brother in the same teasing tone as before.

Sherlock rolls his eyes and punches your shoulder lightly while William watches on in amusement.

“I got distracted!” Sherlock complains, and you break out into giggles.

“I would love to hear some stories if you’re up to it.” William cut in gently before you, and Sherlock could start bickering. You brighten. A chance to tell stories of your work and not have someone get bored? It sounded like heaven!

That was how you got to where you were at the current moment.

You were seated next to Sherlock at the Moriarty dining table, regaling them with a story of the most current dig you had been on.

“—and Egypt was absolutely smashing! It was so beautiful!” You say, waving your hands excitedly as you describe the tomb that had been uncovered. It had taken weeks to uncover everything, almost months. But oh so worth it.

“Might I ask what you did with all the artifacts you found?” William inquires, and you hum as you sip at your wine.

“Donated it all back to the locals. It’s the least I can do. Plenty of archaeologists steal their finds and bring them back to England to show in museums. I try and do the opposite.” You say and were pleased to see William nod in approval.

At least someone shared your sentiment.

You got a letter to your very old and very dusty flat a week after your return to England, summoning you to your eldest brother’s estate. You had been dusting and cleaning your furniture when the postman knocked on your door. You frown, brushing your pants on the seat of your trousers, and answer the door.

The letter was short.

Dearest sister,

I have received news of your return to Egypt. I would like to have your company at the family estate for dinner to discuss business and your adventures.

With best regards,

Mycroft Holmes

A summons to the Holmes family estate that your oldest brother had inherited after your parents retired to the country. You look at the ceiling and groan, eliciting a funny look from the postman.

This was going to be fun.

As soon as Otis realizes where you are, he tosses his head and tries to turn around. You tug the reins so he faces the right direction and nudge him into a walk down the road.

“Otie, I don’t want to do this either. But I’d rather not have Mikey send special forces after us or something.” You say to Otis, and when you reach the stables, Mycroft’s hired stable hand takes your beloved horse’s reins. “Take good care of him!” You nearly reprimand the stable hand who agrees and welcomes you back with ease.

The maids welcome you in excitedly when you rap on the massive double doors, and you are ushered upstairs into the dining room.

Mycroft was seated at the head of the table, where your father would be if he were here, and he stood to greet you. He offers a handshake, but you simply smile warmly and hug him tightly. He may have grated on your nerves, but he was still your brother. Mycroft stiffens and pats your shoulders awkwardly when you step back.

“As awkward as always, I see Mikey.” You said and took a seat at the table next to him like you did when you were kids. He clears his throat and calls for the kitchen staff to bring in the food.

It wasn’t much, considering there were only two of you. But it was as extravagant as Mycroft always demanded it to be.

“Would you like to change into dinner attire before we eat, sister dearest?” Mycroft says suddenly, just as you are about to dig into the delicious roast prepared by the staff of the household. You put your fork down and scowl.

“Don’t start with this, Mikey. You know I hate dresses.” You snap, and he raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push the issue.

At least… he doesn’t until you are done with your meal and in his study, talking about your travels to Egypt.

You down the rest of your whiskey and set the glass whiskey tumbler on the table between you two.

“More whiskey?” He offers, and you shake your head.

“I want to be able to ride home after this.” You say and hold in a yawn. The excellent food combined with the fireplace blazing with a crackling fire is lulling you to sleep.

Suddenly, Mycroft stands and walks in front of the fire, setting his own glass down on the mantle and turning to face you.

“Might we talk some business?” He inquires, and immediately, your mood sours.

So this was his end goal? Get you sleepy and drunk so you couldn’t ride home and were subject to his pleadings?

“I don’t want to hear it, Mikey.” You say and stand, holding onto the back of the wingback chair for a moment as the dizziness sets in.

He scowls,

“You are of perfect age. The season is just starting. You could still join in and find a potential suitor!” He tries, and you scrub at your face.

“I already told you I wasn’t interested in courting! I’m interested in—”

“Your work, I know. But what happens when the digs dry up and there’s nothing else for you to do? What will you do when you get too old for this?!” He snaps, and you whirl, steadying yourself with the chair as your anger flares.

“It won’t dry up! There are thousands of years of history still to be discovered! Hundreds of thousands of cities and archaeological finds!” Your voice rises to a shout, and you hear distant footsteps as maids scurry away from you and your brother’s anger.

This goes on for several minutes until Mycroft a bomb on you.

“Mother and Father have decided. If you don’t find someone to court, they will no longer fund your excavations, and you’ll be stuck here with me.”

You freeze, hands wound tightly in your hair, and argument dying on your tongue.

“B—But that would mean—” Mycroft cuts you off gently and approaches, putting his hands on your shoulders.

“You’d be stuck here until you find a husband—no more digs. No more artifacts. Not until you do as they and I ask.” Tears well up in your eyes, and you shrug off his hands violently and flee.

Your boots pound against the hardwood floors, and you run outside where it has started pouring rain. Instantly, your clothes are soaked as you make it to the stables, dress Otis in his saddle and bridle, and swiftly mount his back. He tears out of the stables at a thundering gallop, and the stable hand barely dives out of the way to save himself from being trampled.

Otis’s hooves dash against the cobblestone roads. You cling to his reins and hunch over his back as tears stream down your face and sobs wrack your body.

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Taking away your funding?

No one wanted to fund a woman on an archaeological dig!

Much less one as young as yourself!

You were screwed! Doomed to live as a housewife because that was society’s and your parent’s expectations of you!

Otis eventually comes to a halt, and you dismount, collapsing onto a bench, breathing hard as rain pours down your body. Your shirt sticks to your skin, and your trousers swim in water as you sit in a puddle on the bench. But you can’t bring it in you to care.

A carriage rumbles to a stop before you, and you look up as the door opens.

“Might I interest you in some shelter?” Comes a proper and endearing accent that you recognize.

“William?” You sniffle, and he smiles, extending a hand.

“If you’ll let him, Fred will handle your horse. How about you step inside the carriage, and we’ll take you back to the Moriarty estate.” He says over the rain. A young man with a blue scarf wrapped around his head gets off the front of the carriage and approaches. You hiccup and nod, handing Otis’s reins to the young man and accepting William’s hand into the carriage. He sheds his overcoat and offers it.

It’s warm and heavy as you wrap it around your shoulders and sit down. Your boots squelch against the floor, and William knocks twice against the carriage's wall, and it starts moving once again.

The Morairty estate is even grander than you remember, looming over you as the carriage stops by the front doors. You nearly slip in your haste to get inside and are taken up the stairs to one of the many bedrooms.

“Draw a bath and get warm. I’ll have some clothes brought by. We can have a talk after you’ve collected yourself.” William says gently, and you nod, taking off his overcoat so he can have it back. He excuses himself, and you are left alone in the suite.

The bath is nice and hot, and you let out a sigh as you shed your clothes into a pile on the floor and sink into the warm water. Your tears are drying, but your emotions are still raging like a rabid dog inside you.

How could they?

Didn’t your family know archaeology was your passion? Your dream?! Of course, they did! You never shut up about it when you were but a little girl learning to play the piano! You babbled on and on about fossils and artifacts in between lessons until you were blue in the face!

It wasn’t long until you were done in the bath and dried off. As William had promised, some clothes were left on the bed. A button-down that looked like it might fit you, a pair of trousers that might be a bit too long, and a pair of undergarments. You tugged on the underwear and then the trousers, having to cuff them at the bottom so you didn’t trip. The shirt fit better than you thought so you pinned your hair out of your face and left the bedroom and down the hall. Hadn’t there been a sitting room just down the stairs?

William was inside, stoking a fire with a poker, his back to you. He stood and turned when you rapped lightly on the entryway. His lips curled in a welcoming smile, and he gestured for you to take a seat.

“Would you like some tea? I had Louis put the kettle on.” He said, and you nodded, sitting on the couch beside the fire.

“Thank you. For the clothes and… everything else.” You mumble, and he shakes his head,

“Don’t mention it. Sherlock mentioned you hated dresses.” He says and pours you a cup of tea.

It’s delicious. It warms you from the tips of your ears to the ends of your bare toes. You scuff them on the plush carpet as William sits across from you. His scarlet eyes are illuminated like glittering rubies in the oranges and yellows of the fire. They’re alive like a torch resides inside.

“Now, might I ask why you were out in the rain?” William asks as soon as you’ve settled into your spot. You bite your lip and wonder if you can trust him with your problems.

Sherlock trusted him well enough…

Perhaps…

“I got into an argument with Mycroft. He said my parents will cut off my funding for excavations if I don’t find a proper husband.” You blurt, and he hums as he takes a sip from his cup.

“I assume they’ve been funding your past archaeological escapades?” He says, and you nod.

“Correct. But that is going to change unless I get married.” You grumble, and he cocks his head to the side, setting his cup down on the tea table next to him and seemingly mulling something over.

“This may be a bit forward, but I have a proposal. A business proposal, if you will.” He starts, and you narrow your eyes. A business proposal? You set your own cup down and cross one leg over the other.

“Go on…” You say hesitantly, and he clasps his hands together as if working out a problem in his head. Sherlock did say he was a mathematics professor.

“I could marry you.” You inhale sharply and proceed to choke on your saliva. William half gets out of his chair to come to your aid when you finally get your coughing under control.

“Why?!” You demand, and he shrugs,

“I’ve done some research into you. You are spearheading the way in new archaeological techniques. You donate your finds back to the locals in need. And frankly, I find you fascinating. If we go ahead with this, you’ll have access to my brother Albert’s influence as well as the Moriarty name and fortune.” He says, and you sit back, stunned.

“I could continue my work?” You say skeptically, and he nods.

“Indeed. There’s no reason to stop you. I might ask for a lecture or two from you at Durham University. But that’s it. So…” He extends a hand for you to shake. “Have we reached an accord?”

You are speechless as possibilities run rampant through your brain. You’d be free from your parent’s influence as well as pleasing them. Though pleasing them was the last thing on your mind. Yes, you’d be married. But like William said… it was more of a business proposal…

You reach forward and shake his hand. His smile widens marginally as you speak,

“I accept your proposal.”

#william james moriarty x reader #william james moriarty x you #william james moriarty x y/n #moriarty x reader #mtp william #mtp william x reader #ynm william #ynm x reader #mtp x reader #moriarty the patriot x reader #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #fairy writes

231 notes · View notes